


Karma

by Miah_Arthur



Series: Growing Up [2]
Category: Haven - Fandom
Genre: Bullying, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Revenge, Trouble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 06:30:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2299817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miah_Arthur/pseuds/Miah_Arthur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It begins with an unusual apology. It expands in a way that only a Trouble can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set between "Business as Usual" and "Sins of the Father" (On the assumption that there are a few weeks between those episodes, because I just can't buy into the crazily compressed timeline that just doesn't add up.)
> 
> Thank you to Roseveare11 for the beta work.

 

# Karma

 

The _Grey Gull_ was not very busy when Parker and I arrived. She had sold me on the idea that we needed to do something to show solidarity with Duke after what happened to Evi, and okay, we were here. We said hello to Duke, who was hunched over the bar scribbling on some papers. He barely acknowledged our presence. I bristled, but Parker pulled me off toward a table in the corner. 

She sighed."Nathan, he knows we're here, that makes a difference." 

"He didn't even look at us, Parker." 

She got that stubborn look on her face and directed me to the chair. I grumbled a bit more, but secretly I was glad for the excuse to do something. We ordered some snacks. I ordered a beer and Parker ordered some girly drink that I wouldn't have guessed she'd prefer. 

The _Gull_ was actually a pretty nice place. A big improvement over the Shaw's last attempt to run it. Of course, the food not rotting in front of our eyes was a bonus toward Duke's management.

We sat there for a couple of hours, until the crowd started to thin. Duke hadn't moved from his perch the whole time. I was about to tell Parker that I was calling it a night when Duke finally moved. He came to stand by our table, shuffling his weight side to side and fidgeting with his hands while we looked up at him, waiting.

"I'm sorry, Nathan." Duke pressed a folded stack of papers into my hand.

"What?" Duke didn't apologize. At least not without a hefty dose of sarcasm, but I didn't hear any in his voice tonight.

He stood up straight, arms held stiffly at his side, and eyes locked on a point over my left shoulder. "For everything on that list. I'm sorry I did those things to you. I was wrong, an ass, a jerk. When we were kids I made your life miserable. Obviously I can't take it back, and I'm not asking forgiveness or understanding, but I wanted you to know that I know what I did."

"That sounds rehearsed." Why had I let Parker convince me to come to the _Grey Gull_?

His stiff posture deflated, and he looked at me this time. "It's not like there's a Hallmark card that says, 'Sorry I bullied you when we were kids.' But I thought it might, you know, help if I admitted to it." Duke retreated to the far end of the bar with a shot glass and a bottle of whiskey and _huddled_.

I looked at the papers. He'd listed shitty things he'd done to me as a kid. I glared at his back. How the hell had he remembered all this? Even I had forgotten some of these.

Parker came around the table and leaned over my back to read; her chin pressed against my shoulder made a sharp focal point against the normal blankness of my body. It had a grounding effect that I didn't really want. 

After reading over the entire list–and it took a while, because Duke had detailed his transgressions in a tiny script over several pages–I realized that he left off the thing that started it all. If he was going to go to all this trouble to make such a detailed list and apologize, why the hell would he leave that off? Was all of this just another jab, after all? He never stopped, did he?

Parker had shifted around and was leaning against my arm now. I jumped up, fast enough that I knocked her off-balance, and marched over to Duke. His bottle was nearly empty, and I wondered if it had taken me that long to read the list or if he was drinking that fast. I glanced around. Maybe it had taken me that long, because the three of us were alone.

I pushed the list across the bar to him, barely holding in check a vengeance-demanding anger the like of which I'd not felt since we were ten years old. "You left off the first time."

Parker came up behind me and stared at Duke, waiting for him to answer. Guilt, anger, and something else flashed across Duke's face, but he said nothing. 

Parker touched my bare arm and that grounding effect hit me again, pulling me back from anger that I suddenly saw was out of proportion after all this time. _I'm not that kid anymore_. Dimly, I recalled that Duke's father was a bastard and Duke, as a kid, fit certain unpleasant profiles that cops look for when the parents are that kind of asshole.

"What happened, Nathan?" Parker's question pulled me even further toward my normal control.

She moved her hand and the veil of righteous anger fell over me again. "He broke his hand punching me," I growled. Duke still refused to make eye contact. Guilty bastard! 

"Just like that? One punch and his hand was broken?" Parker sounded so calm and reasonable. Like this was no big deal. What was wrong with her?

Well, she wanted to know, I'd tell her. Duke sure wasn't opening his mouth. He never could fess up when something made him look bad. "No, I jumped on him after he punched me. I had been out for months recovering from the sledding accident and learning how to function with my Trouble. I'd only been back at school for two days." That moment had started years of bullying that still hurt, even if we were something approaching friends now. "Before that I thought Duke was my friend." 

Duke had kept his head turned the whole time I was talking. He muttered, "Didn't break my hand punching you," as he added it to the list anyway.

It hit my nerves like it was every excuse he had ever used to weasel his way out of trouble, and, by God, did it piss me off. "Your arm was in a cast for weeks. I _know_ you broke it."

“You stepped on it. I deserved it though.” 

He was lying. I could see it in his face. I should have known this was just another trick. I resisted the urge to ask Parker to check my back for tacks. “Why me?” For years I fell asleep to that question. Cried into my pillow over those two little words when I thought the Chief wouldn't hear it. Hated Duke, but hated myself more for not being able to find the answer and change it.

Duke poured another shot of whiskey and drank it in one gulp. Then he stood up and leaned into my space; poked a finger at my chest. “Because you were an easy target. Because face it, I _enjoyed_ talking people into doing what I wanted them to do. I still do.” 

I wasn't looking down, so I couldn't tell if he was actually touching me or not, and it made me even madder. I knocked Duke’s arm away, but something was slowing me down, telling me that this wasn't right. It tugged my fists back down against my sides, even though I should want to kill Duke for confirming my worst childhood fears. 

Duke looked pointedly at my hands not reaching for his throat, and gave an exasperated snort. He threw a punch at my gut that doubled me over from the momentum of it. I heard my breath whistling. I was seeing spots, but felt no pain to slow down my reaction. 

I came back up, tackling him to the ground, wanting nothing more than to hurt him, because he _could_ feel it. I had my hands tangled in his shirt slamming him against the floor when, suddenly, Parker was there with hands on my cheek and the back of my neck. I felt that. It pulled me back. Though I was still mad, the veil was gone, and I let her turn my head to face her. 

It had to be a first, but Duke hadn't struggled at all since we went down. I shoved him over onto his stomach, handcuffed him and hauled him up. Somewhere in that process Parker had lost skin contact with me, but the familiarity in the motions of arresting Duke muffled the returning anger.

Duke shook his head and said, "Now, see? This is a problem, because I really planned on getting my ass kicked tonight, then crawling off alone. You arresting me is just all kinds of messing with those plans."

I took a good look at him. Blood was trailing down his chin where I had split his lip. He was swaying on his feet, and his words had a distinct slur on them. Something in his eyes was just...off. Desperation? Despair? Grief? Whatever had gotten into him tonight, doubt entered my mind that it really had much to do with me after all. Maybe more to do with Evi and being drunk. I decided it was him wanting to goad someone, anyone, into giving him the beating he thought he deserved for not saving her, and I was still the easiest target. 

Damn him for using me again, and damn myself for not realizing it sooner. The realization sent my anger levels spiraling up again, and the desire to pummel him into the floor hit me hard. Duke was in cuffs, subdued, and the training of all my adult years was pressing in on me with the fundamental rule that you never abuse a subdued, cuffed suspect. Something snapped in my chest, emotionally speaking, and the fight drained out of me. 

"I'm not going to hit you." And just like that, I was thirty-five again, in control, the anger of my ten-year-old self lost to the years. 

Duke started to speak a few times, but finally, his shoulders slumped and his chin fell to his chest. "Fine. I'll go quietly. I deserve to be locked up after everything I've done."

I shook my head, but put him in the Bronco. He'd surely sleep whatever this was off and be back to his normal obnoxious self by morning. Though maybe somebody should keep an eye on how much the guy was drinking. I looked at the nearly empty bottle. That just wasn't healthy.

 

* * * 

 

I removed the cuffs and Duke stepped into the cell meekly. He had been bizarrely silent and compliant throughout the entire ride and walk into the station. I slid the door shut and walked out to Officer Stamos' desk. He was in charge of the lock-up tonight. "I want fifteen minute checks on Crocker until the end of the shift. He's a potential danger to himself."

Stamos looked a little surprised, and he was probably silently cursing me assigning him extra work, but he entered the requirement into the computer. "Yes, sir. I have it on my log for the night, now."

I nodded, and continued to my office. I was unsettled, and a dread that this was a Trouble was building in the back of my mind.

Parker leaned against her desk waiting for me. "So have you ever known him to be such a maudlin drunk?" she asked before I had even made it through the door.

I joined her in leaning on her desk. "No, and I've never seen him give up on a fight so easy or admit he was wrong like that." I pulled the list Duke had handed me from my pocket. "Hell, looking at this, _I_ don't even remember half this stuff."

We stared at the list for a couple of minutes, before I said, "Maybe this really is just a reaction to Evi dying." _Please tell me this isn't a Trouble, Audrey._

"Well, this _is_ Duke. He does sort of march to his own beat, but this seems weird even for him."

I pointed to the list. "He was trying to goad me into hurting him. That… Is something I never thought I would see Duke do. At least not without trying to hurt me back."

"I don't think we'll get much sense out of him until he's sober. It's late. What do you say we call it a night, Wuornos?"

I was still unsettled, but nodded. She waved as she left the office. I sat staring at the list a little longer, before shoving it in my pocket. On my way out, I stopped by Stamos' desk.

"He's not been causing any problem, Chief."

"Good. Just keep checking until he dries out and calms down."

Stamos looked less than pleased about that, but said, "Yes, sir."

I drove home and collapsed on the couch. I thought I'd be asleep nearly instantly. It was late, and I had to be tired, even if I didn't feel most signals. I didn't fall asleep though. I lay there thinking about that list. I wasn't mad, at least not like I had been earlier, but I couldn't get the things Duke had done off my mind. I started wondering what it would be like to do some of those things to him.

It wasn't like I had never wondered before. I spent a lot of my nights in Middle School plotting how to get long, slow revenge on him. I wanted to hurt him, sure, but I wanted to make it last. It would be a nice bonus if everyone laughed, but it would be enough just to know that everyone had seen Duke hurt and humiliated the way I had been.

I sat up. There was too much to do. I could sleep later. I turned the lamp on and pulled the list out of my pocket. I needed to find just the right punishment. Duke was finally going to get what he deserved and it was going to be _awesome_.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

I whistled as I jogged up the steps of the police station. This was going to be the best day of my life. I had everything I needed in a backpack slung over one shoulder. Just inside the door, I nearly ran into Parker. She looked flustered. She rarely looked flustered, and that gave me pause. If she needed something, I would have to wait on my plan. It wasn't like Duke was going anywhere. I had him safely in a cell.

"What's wrong, Parker?"

"Why didn't you answer your phone? We've got calls from all over town."

"My phone?" I checked the place on my belt that I normally kept it. It wasn't there. How did I not notice that? I gave Parker the first excuse I could think of. "I dropped it at the _Gull_. What kind of calls?"

She held up a sheaf of notes, but motioned me to move back toward the truck. "We started with a man hanging trussed to a flagpole by his underwear. Then there was a naked man locked in a storefront window, three fist fights, two women destroying cars, and now a man tearing through a house with some kind of construction equipment. We're short on patrol cars, this all came in in a space of ten minutes. I was heading to the construction equipment call."

I put the light on the roof before I got in. She gave me the address and I sped away. The address wasn't very far, but she was looking at me suspiciously the whole way. Couldn't I be happy without arousing suspicion in my partner?

It was easy to see which house we were heading to. A large backhoe was taking scoops out of a two story house while a crowd of people surrounded a tree.

Parker barely waited for me to stop the Bronco before she hit the ground running. The crowd around the tree had sticks in their hands and were circling around jabbing at the trunk. A gap opened up in the crowd and I saw a man tied to the tree with a rope around his chest. He was bawling and waving his arms completely ineffectually at his attackers. 

Before Parker had reached the ring of stick wielding bullies, the man's whole demeanor had changed. He stood up straighter, stopped crying, and tried to get free from the ropes. 

"Miller, you bastard! Untie me! What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing to my house?" the man roared. 

The crowd with sticks had stopped moving when the change had overtaken the man. One of them intoned,"You destroyed every project Billy ever made. You need to know how it feels to lose your hard work."

The man–I still didn't recognize him by the glimpses I was getting through the crowd–nodded with a dazed sort of look on his face. The people started moving again. Poking with the sticks. Their image flickered, and I wasn't seeing adults poking another adult. I was seeing a gang of children, circling another child who was crying helplessly. The noise from the destruction of the house faded. I looked that direction and the house was gone, replaced by an area of flat greyness. Images of two boys played, as if on an old projector. One of the boys–and now I recognized him as Matt Willis–pushed the other boy–Billy Miller–down and proceeded to smash the carefully designed diorama Billy had carried.

I remembered this. Billy used to bring his projects to my house, and we'd try to smuggle them to school. Matt Willis, a couple of years older than us but in the same grade, seemed to have an uncanny knack for knowing where to set his ambushes. He didn't seem to care if Billy managed to turn them in on the occasions that we did sneak past him. He just wanted them destroyed. None of them had ever made it home with Billy. 

Matt was finally going to get what he deserved. I picked up a stick, and joined the others taunting Matt. I felt something on my hand and everything flickered. The roar of the backhoe was still silenced, but the half-destroyed house and the adult Matt Willis and people holding sticks were visible. I dropped the stick and looked at Parker's hand on my arm. She touched Matt Willis' hand, and all the other sticks hit the ground. I wondered why none of the stick wielders looked familiar.

Parker had a smudge of oil on one cheek and some strands of hair had escaped her ponytail. She cocked an eyebrow at me. 

I shrugged. "What did you do to Bill Miller?"

"I asked him _politely_ to turn off the machine and step down."

I looked around and spotted a muddy, huddled Bill Miller handcuffed to the bottom step of the machine. He had a wild gleam in his eye and a near maniacal smile spread across his face.

"I take he it was disinclined to acquiesce?"

"What is going on? My-My _house_! What happened to my house? Why is Bill handcuffed to a… Oh. Untie me. I need to-to get-over there–"

"No way are we letting you get this fight going again," I said.

"What? I don't want to fight. I haven't wanted to for years! I was an asshole when we were kids. I never said so." He looked me up and down. "I never apologized to you, either, Wuornos. I really am ashamed of the kid I was. I have been for a long time, but never had the guts to say so. Let me go, please?"

Parker looked dubious, but untied him. He limped over, and sat in the mud with Miller. While the two of them talked, the others who had surrounded the tree faded out. That might explain why I hadn't recognized them. After a few minutes the men shook hands, and Willis said loudly, "Could you release him, officers? I'm not pressing charges."

"What about your house?" Parker asked.

"I'm a building contractor. We're finally going to work together on a project," Miller said, smiling broadly, though much less maniacally.

Parker reluctantly uncuffed him. "If anything changes, come by the station–either of you."

They wandered off, discussing the damage and repairs. I went back to the Bronco to check in.

"Laverne?"

" _Yeah, hon_?"

"Any updates on those other calls?"

" _All resolved_." I started to breathe a sigh of relief. " _But we've got a few more_."

"Well, there goes my theory that these two, being the most extreme, were the cause of the Trouble," Parker said from behind me.

I shook my head, and said, "What have you got, Laverne?"

" _There's a major disturbance over at the West Elementary School. Someone was spotted up on the bell tower of the old fire station with a bucket of paint. And Tatum stopped Philip Wilson from setting fire to his own hardware store._ "

"Alright, Laverne, are Stan and Rafferty available?"

" _Sure are, hon_."

"Send them to the firehouse. Keep everyone else looking for trouble. Parker and I are heading to the school."

I snapped the radio back into place and started the Bronco. As soon as I had taken off, Parker started talking. "So it's definitely something to do with bullying. At least you and Duke snapped out of it before you got as far as those two, but it could get really nasty."

"A lot of people were bullied as kids, Parker."

"But something set this person off, and it's affecting adults. I'd expect it to be affecting kids."

"Time doesn't make that much difference, sometimes." 

"So we could be looking at an adult, but what set the Trouble off?"

_I wish she'd quit looking at me like I should have all the answers. Damn Duke for handing me that list in front of her_. "Something that reminded them of what happened when they were kids. How do you track what reminds an individual of elementary school?"

"Well, we're at an elementary school now," she said.

Parents and children were trickling out of the building, but many more parents were crowding the doors trying to get in. I radioed Laverne to send back-up for crowd control before I got out of the Bronco. Children looked terrified by their parents' strange behavior, and were dragging their feet through the parking lot. I stepped in front of one woman. She stopped just short of bouncing off my chest, then tried to sidestep me. I continued blocking her until she finally asked, " _What_?"

"Why is everyone taking their kids out? What's going on in there?"

"It's a horrible place! They allow bullies to operate with impunity and punish anyone brave enough to speak up for themselves! Now, I'm leaving!" She sidestepped me again, and I let her go, even though the expressions on her kids' faces clearly said they thought mom had lost it.

I looked at Parker. "Well, that's an escalation."

She nodded and began weaving her way toward the door. Even more people were inside trying to get to their children than had been outside. Several teachers guarded the inner door. A man stood in the secretary's booth, shouting to be heard over the din, "We will not release any children until everyone has calmed down!"

The mob of parents was already barely contained by the line of teachers. With the announcement that no other children were to be released, the whole crowd surged forward, jamming even further together. Things looked like they weren't far from critical mass.

I'd pushed my way through the crowd, and almost made it to the edge of the mass of people when the floor was suddenly rushing up to meet me. I threw my arms up to protect my head. 

Someone screamed and I heard many feet stamping the floor next to me. I drew my legs up, and tried to get back on my knees. I heard a muffled impact and was slammed back onto the ground. Through the tangle of my arms, I saw a man stumbling backward. He was about to go down when he hit a human wall. The area around me suddenly cleared out and I risked a look up. Dwight released the man he'd stopped, and then reached down for me. I took his hand, and then the floor was getting further away as I was hauled back upright. 

Dwight held onto me for a few seconds until he seemed sure I had my balance. _How the hell did he beat us to the school_? I could see Parker near my elbow glaring daggers at the crowd. A little space had cleared out around the big man, and I scowled at everyone in general at the idea that the crowd would part for him, but not me.

"There's something you need to see." Dwight's tone was as calm and enigmatic as ever. Implacable in his assurance that I would just follow him, no questions asked. It annoyed me further that he was right. 

I trailed along in the big man's wake, not particularly happy that I needed the assist through the crowd. I hadn't been this generally angry since Junior High, which struck me as odd for just a moment, but I shook it off.The crowd seemed a little calmer. There was less shoving, and some semblance of a line was forming out of the chaos. The teachers guarding the door moved aside long enough for us to get through, and no one rushed the gap. Maybe having seen they had the capability of trampling someone had shamed them into acting like people again.

The change in ambient noise when the doors closed behind us soothed an irritation I hadn't even realized I'd had. Dwight disappeared around a nearby corner and I hurried to follow. Part way through the pivot around the corner, I heard a loud pop from my ankle, and I slammed into the wall. It happened too fast for me to stop my face from hitting the wall and I was left blinking away sparkles of colors.

"Nathan! What's wrong?" Parker was in front of me, concern wiping away professionalism in her expression. 

"I'm fine," I said as I pushed myself off the wall. I took another step and my ankle gave way again, pitching me right back into the wall. 

"Really?" Did her voice have to drip sarcasm like that?

Dwight was back in front of me. "We don't have time for this. Put your arm around my waist. I'll help you."

Now he looked nervous and Dwight just didn't do nervous, so I nodded. We hobbled down to a door labeled Counselor's Office. It was open. Inside, three men and a woman were locked in a heated discussion. Dwight released me, and I gripped the door frame, since I couldn't trust my balance.

"You don't understand! You have to stop them!" shouted a short, stout, red-faced man. 

The principal, Elena Mitchell, said in a too-reasonable voice, "Mr. Matthias. Please. Calm down. We can discuss these programs once this crisis is resolved."

"No! Don't you see? No child is safe in this school! Bullies are allowed to operate with impunity and you punish anyone brave enough to speak up for themselves!"

I exchanged a glance with Parker. That was way too specific to be a coincidence.

"Mr. Matthias." Parker moved between the two groups, flashing her badge at the school staff and waving them back. 

"What are you doing?" Matthias shouted, taking a step back like he saw Parker as a threat.

"I'm Audrey Parker, with Haven PD. I'm here to help." She held her hands up in a placating motion.

"Oh yeah? That's what that other guy said, too!" He waved in Dwight's general direction. "He wasn't any help. No one can help. Nothing I do changes anything." His words had become a sob by the end of his speech and he put his face in his hands, still muttering. His shoulders shook.

Dwight took a step closer, but didn't make physical contact. Parker touched Matthias' shoulder and said, "Let's start at the beginning." She directed him to a chair and then sat beside him. 

I motioned the principal to come to me. All three of the school personnel edged their way around Matthias and Parker. Dwight stayed in range to easily stop Matthias if he made a move to hurt Parker. 

"We have some officers coming out for crowd control. Do what you can to keep the kids calm and the parents managed. This could get worse before it gets better."

"Is this a…" She leaned in and whispered, "Trouble?"

I frowned, but nodded once.

She left and one of the men followed her, but the other stopped. "I'm Aaron Tanner, the school nurse. Would you like me to check your foot?"

I kept my grip on the door frame, and leaned some weight on that foot. The ankle folded over. I grunted in frustration. Tanner reached for me. I waved him off. "No. Maybe once this situation is under control. What can you tell me about this guy?"

"His son attends school here. Fourth grade. Benjamin was in a fight yesterday morning. The other boy started it, taunting Benjamin, but per school policy both boys have been suspended. Benjamin for one day, the other boy for a week, because it's not his first offense. Mr. Matthias doesn't have custody. He lives in Portland, but showed up agitated this morning."

"Thank you for your help, Mr. Tanner."

He nodded, looked pointedly at my foot and then walked away shaking his head. Parker had been talking to Matthias. Shortly after Tanner left, Matthias jumped up and started pacing.

"No, no, no! You don't understand. I _know_ how these kids operate. Whatever the school is doing is not enough!"

"Which kids, Mr. Matthias?" Parker had stood back up, and both her and Dwight were watching Matthias warily.

"The bullies! Don't you get it? It's all coming back, and Benji is paying for it."

"Benji is your son, right Mr. Matthias?" I called before Parker could ask.

Matthias stopped pacing. His shoulders sagged and he said, "Yes. And I've brought this down on him. It's my fault."

"Why don't you come with us to the station, Mr. Matthias. You can explain better what's going on."

For a second it looked like he was going to be reasonable and comply. He even took a small step forward. Then he froze, his expression a mask of anguish. He lunged across the desk and came up with a letter opener. 

"There's only one way to fix this. I can't do this to Benji." He held the letter opener like he was preparing to commit seppuku. "I can't put him through that. Let it end with me!" The letter opener flashed toward his stomach and… Didn't connect. 

Dwight wrenched Matthias' arm away and forced him to drop the impromptu weapon. Parker snapped handcuffs on that arm. Dwight wrestled him around for her to cuff the other wrist. Matthias hit the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut. I would have thought that he had passed out, except he set up a wail that sent shivers down my spine. 

Just one more thing on my list of things annoying me today–psychosomatic shivers. "We need to find another exit to take him out. He doesn't need to be any closer to that crowd."

"I know where to go," Dwight rumbled. 

_Of course you do_. "Can you manage him?"

"Him?" Dwight poked at Matthias with the toe of his boot. "Sure. What about you?"

"I'll get there just fine. Don't worry about me." I stood up a little straighter, making sure to keep my center of balance over the right foot. The guy was reminding me of Duke. Always jabbing at me. 

Dwight looked me up and down and said, "Sure you can." He grabbed Matthias to pull him up to his feet, but the man was like a ragdoll. Dwight sighed, but dragged the man over his shoulders, and stood gripping one of Matthias' legs with one hand, and Matthias' wrist with his other hand. 

I held tightly to the door frame and stepped back into the hallway. Dwight brushed past me with a still wailing Matthias. I bristled at him, then reminded myself that Duke was the one who deserved all my ire. Parker stopped and offered her shoulder.

"Can you drive a stick?" I asked her. No way I could with my ankle giving way like this.

"Of course, I can," she said. "I'm just going to have to mess with your seat adjustments, or I won't be able to reach the peddles."

I groaned. If those settings were changed it would affect my ability to drive. My driving depended entirely on knowing precisely how to move. It wasn't like I could look at my feet while I was driving. I had to trust that they were in the right places by memory.

"I'll drop you off at the hospital on the way to the station. No arguments. That ankle could be broken."

"Wasn't going to argue, Parker. I need to be able to walk." I was confident that she would be able to sort Matthias out and end this Trouble. I still had the small matter of my plans for Duke, and this was the first opportunity I'd had to get away from her all morning. The hospital would be able to do something to get me walking again, and then I'd be free to deal with Duke. I could always wait outside the station and call for him to be released to avoid her trapping me back into helping again.

Dwight put Matthias in the Bronco. I scooted my way in, and then suppressed a groan as I watched Parker move the seat around. Dwight headed back to the entrance to help with the crowd, though judging by the number of cars in the parking lot, it had cleared out a lot.

I pulled my backpack up into the front seat with me, so I'd have it when I got out at the hospital.

"So what's with the backpack, Nathan?"

I smiled. "I have some plans with Duke later."

"Are you sure you're okay after what happened last night?" She checked on Matthias in the rearview mirror.

"Last night? Sure. Why wouldn't I be? We need to let him out of the cell soon. He's probably pitching a fit by now." Yeah, I was enjoying that thought.

"What? No. Drunk and disorderly. He sobered up and was released with a ticket before I got to the station."

That stopped me right in my tracks. How was I going to find him? The weasel could be anywhere by now. I realized she was looking at me with more serious concern now. Probably assessing whether I had also hit my head when I went down earlier. "I'm fine, Parker. I just forgot. I didn't sleep too well last night, and that had slipped my mind."

"We-ell, okay." She stopped in front of the ER. I slid out, careful to land on my right foot. If I went on the assumption that the left wouldn't take my weight, I could probably manage the few feet to the door.

It wasn't graceful by any means, but I made it. I turned and gave a thumbs up to Parker who had been coming around the front end of the truck to help. She rolled her eyes and got back in. I waited until she had driven away before continuing.

I almost made it to the desk. Almost. One last step and my ankle gave way, throwing me over the top of the desk. The nurse, whose lap I was nearly in, rolled her chair back quickly. I pushed myself upright.

"Sorry, I–"

"Oh! Chief Wuornos! Just don't move."

I didn't think me stumbling over her desk should have been enough to make her sound that panicked. I reluctantly looked down. _Oh, Hell_. I had impaled my arm on the pen they had secured to the desk. Someone in the waiting room screeched. The pen really wasn't that deep. Stuck in muscle, between the bigger veins in the forearm. I heard a commotion approaching. They'd take forever in deciding how to take it out, and Duke would get even further away. I gripped the bottom of the pen.

"Don't touch it!" A nurse yelled from only a few feet away. 

I jerked my arm up and off the pen. More people from the waiting room shouted and I heard things like 'Did he just…?' 'Do you think he's on drugs?' and 'Is that the _Chief_?'

The nurse stopped in front of me looking like she had been sucking on a lemon. Then again, I recognized her and she rarely looked happy. She pulled a large pad of gauze from a scrubs pocket and slapped it over the wound. "Come on to the back."

"Can't walk." 

The nurse from the desk pushed over a wheelchair. I sat in it, and tried not to notice the by turns annoyed and scared stares of the people in the waiting room that I was jumping line on.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

I came out two hours later with a bandaged arm and a strap-on walking cast on my foot. They said it wasn't broken. A bad sprain, but the cast offered better control since the doctor knew I wouldn't give it a proper rest. I had tried to endure the scolding over pulling the pen out as stoically as possible, but I know that I was making my impatience obvious. I had passed it off as an important case. They had responded by taking even longer than normal.

I started walking. I had to find Duke, and I couldn't involve Audrey or anyone at the station for a ride. She wouldn't understand. I'd start with his boat. If he wasn't there, I'd just keep going until I caught him.

I hadn't made it a block when Vince and Dave pulled up in Vince's old car. "Nathan! What happened to you?" Dave looked around like I was hiding Parker somewhere on the street.

"I fell. Hurt my ankle. Parker is at the station wrapping up a case."

"Do you need a ride, Nathan? Why didn't you call someone?" Vince sounded concerned. Maybe for my sanity.

"I left my phone at home. I was just heading over to Duke's boat to see if he would drive me around to get it." 

But damn it, then they'd just wonder why I didn't use the hospital's landline to call Duke's phone. "His phone broke last night," I blurted out. That made sense, right? 

Vince and Dave exchanged a look, and Dave said, "We were on our way to the station, would you like to ride with us?"

I shook my head, took a step further away from their car. I had to find Duke, not get bogged down with these two and especially not with the station and Parker. 

"No, Dave," Vince said crossly. "He said he was going to Duke's. How's he supposed to work like that?" Vince waved a hand up and down over me. I wasn't _that_ bad. Although maybe it was the blood stain peeking out of my rolled up shirt sleeve.

They exchanged another look, and Dave said, just as crossly, "We could still give him a ride over to the marina, Vince."

"I would love a ride to the marina," I said, the first chance I got to slip a word in.

"Well, get in, then. Scoot over, Dave!"

"I was. I was."

Duke's Land Rover was in the parking lot. I convinced Vince and Dave that I didn't need any help getting to the _Cape Rouge_ , and they left, still sniping at one another. I hoisted my backpack and marched–step, clunk, step, clunk–down the docks to the Cape Rouge.

I landed on the deck of the _Rouge_ with a loud thump. So much for the element of surprise. I clunked over to the door. It swung open to reveal a shirtless Duke. His expression brightened when he saw me.

"Nathan! I was beginning to think you weren't coming. I was about to start without you."

I stopped moving. He was so...happy to see me. I shook my head. What was I thinking? It had been twenty years since I had plotted against Duke like this. 

"Whoa, Nathan. You're not having second thoughts, are you? You know I deserve it." His eyes sort of clouded over and his voice flattened out to near monotone. "After all the things that I've done, I deserve to suffer." 

I nodded. He was right. He had to pay for his misdeeds, or some innocent kid Like Benjamin Matthias would get hurt. I nudged him back through the door. The galley offered enough floor space, so I tapped him on the shoulder to stop him.

"Kneel. Hands on your head." Duke complied and I snapped the cuffs around one wrist, then twisted his arms down behind his back and finished cuffing him. 

I walked around him, taking a good look. He blinked hard a few times and looked up at me like he hadn't known I was there. "Nathan?" He tugged on the cuffs. "What's going on?" A distinct tone of nervousness had crept into his voice. 

I circled around behind him. "Another deception. Another trick," I hissed in his ear.

"What– What are you talking about, Nathan? Why am I in cuffs?"

"Because you are a lying bastard who always gets away with it. It's time for everyone to know what you really are."

He rattled the cuffs again and chuckled uneasily. "Come on, Nate. You don't have to do this."

I shoved him hard between his shoulder blades. He jerked his arms, trying to catch himself, but only managed to twist enough that his shoulder took the initial blow of the landing. The side of his head thumped the floor next. He whimpered, but started to pull himself back up. I put my knee on his shoulder and let my weight press him into the floor. Leaning over, close to his ear, I said, "I remember saying that to you, _Duke_." He whimpered again. "And what did you always say to me, Duke?"

He shook his head, scraping his forehead back and forth on the floor. 

I grabbed a handful of his hair, pulling his head up and then slamming it on the floor. Not too hard. I wanted him clearheaded for this. Just enough to hurt. He struggled then, trying feebly to throw me off. I pressed his other shoulder into the floor with my other hand and slammed his head on the floor a few more times.

"Answer me, dammit! _What did you always say_?"

"'N-n-no. I-I really th-think we do.' I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please."

I pulled the collar out of the open backpack. "I used to say that, too, didn't I?" He nodded, sniffling. "And what did you do when I begged you to stop? Did you stop?" He shook his head.

I twisted my knee into his back, and he cried out. "I said, did you stop?"

"No! I never stopped! I never stopped."

I snapped the collar around Duke's neck, making sure to adjust it so that the electrodes were firmly in contact with his throat. 

"I d– Ack! No…" He trailed off into a gurgle as the shocks increased in power the longer he used his voice.

I pulled him up and left him sitting on his knees. "You are going to be quiet now, Duke. You're going to listen for once. Take what you deserve and not try to talk your way out of it. Isn't that right?"

He nodded, silently. Tears trailed down his face.

Faintly at first, then louder and louder, a chant of "Cry baby! Cry baby!" began to rise from all around us. Duke's eyes widened and real fear showed on his face. Duke had always been bad enough by himself, but in a crowd he was so much worse. 

"You remember how this goes." I kicked him in the ass and sent him sprawling on the floor again. He curled up on his side, though with his arms behind him, he couldn't really protect himself. I kicked him in the stomach. "Good." 

The chanting voices solidified and we were surrounded by the kids that Duke had always rallied against me. They stopped chanting and piled on Duke, punching and kicking with their pint-sized fists. I saw an opening and kicked him in the balls. He cried out, then gurgled as the collar shocked him. 

I waved at the kids and they stopped. Duke looked up at me, pleading with his eyes. I hesitated. Why was I doing this? Why wasn't Duke really fighting back? This wasn't right. He _always_ fought. If you really cornered me, I'd even say that was one of the things I liked about him, or at least respected.

One of the kids pulled the rope out of the backpack, and I shook off the feelings of doubt. Duke had to get what he deserved. I pulled him back up onto his knees. He hunched over, breathing unsteadily. I tied the short length of rope around one bicep and then the other. I jerked it and he shuffled forward on his knees. I half-dragged him out the door and onto the deck. 

Duke collapsed onto the deck, still looking terrified and not fighting. One of the kids nudged me and pointed to a rope hanging from a pulley. I nodded and tied it to the middle of the rope on his arms, then released the cuffs. Pulling on the rope, I forced him to stand up. A quick knot around the deck rail secured him in place.

I circled him, ducking under the rope. His eyes stopped me again. There was fear, but something else. Satisfaction? The bastard had some plan, and I was playing into it again. The kids crowded around and sang taunts at him. The look, whatever it had been, disappeared, but it was enough to assure me that what I was doing was right.

I took the marker from the backpack and wrote BULLY across his chest in block letters. "Why?" He moaned with the shock; waited for the collar to reset. "Why me?"

I examined his expression for any mockery. Why would he ask that? I grabbed his face. "You _know_ why! Because I can! Because _you_ are an easy target. Because I am _enjoying_ this."

He swallowed heavily. I released him and stumbled back. What was I saying? I didn't want to be like him. I am better than him. I always will be. This was not my style. This wasn't me. There was a Trouble…

Sounds from behind startled me out of the train of thought. I whirled to face the new threat. There was me as a child and Duke...and all these other kids, projected on the wall. The door handle distorted my face. Duke had his arm over my shoulder like he was my friend. He was pointing to something off in the distance. The other boys snickered into their hands as I accepted Duke's story that Carla Rose liked me. Then they were all around me, slapping me on the back. Shoving tacks into my back. I watched myself, oblivious to it, as Duke waved at the others to keep it up.

They ran out of tacks and started shuffling their feet as I still hesitated to go talk to the girl, and hadn't noticed the blood soaking through my shirt. 

"Nathan, you've got to go talk to her, man. She'll think you hate her if you don't. Go on, do it!" Duke-in-the-projection goaded. I turned away. I couldn't watch myself walk up to the group of girls and turn to give Duke one more thumbs up… I couldn't block my ears, though. I still heard the squealing start. 

I grabbed the box of tacks from the backpack and fumbled with the lid until I had one in my hand. The laughter of the boys in the projection still filled the air. I slammed the first tack into Duke's bare back. His scream ended in a whimper as the collar shocked him.

I didn't stop. Shoved tack after tack into him. The kids danced around, mocking, name calling, sometimes hitting when it took me a while to get another tack plucked from the box. Some of them fell out, and I let them go. Sometimes he couldn't keep himself quiet, but the collar stopped him. I laughed at him after a particularly long shock cycle.

"Something finally shut you up, Duke! You were always talking your way out of punishment. Well, you aren't talking your way out of this!" 

I was running out of tacks. It was a tiny box. Too bad there weren't more. Blood oozed from the wounds. I pushed the last one in slowly, breaking the skin, and making sure it stuck. The kids gave me big smiles and backed away.

I walked around him. His head was hanging down. He was breathing in shuddery gasps. He looked up at me and the pain in his eyes had reached a level I had seen looking back at me in the mirror years ago.

Duke blinked at me slowly, then turned his head away. Finally. He was finally getting it. I turned his face back toward me. "It hurts, doesn't it? Someone that should be your friend causing you so much pain." 

He scrunched his eyes closed, tried to jerk his head free. I yanked it back, hard. Got closer to him, our noses nearly touching, and growled, "It's not finished, is it?"

He shook his head. 

"It was never enough for you to just torment me, was it, Duke?"

He gave a low whine, but shook his head.

"You always had to have an audience, didn't you? I always had to suffer in public to make you happy. The whole school had to know. And now the whole town has to see. Isn't that right, _Duke_?"

"Nathan…" He whispered my name, careful to keep his voice under the limit of the collar.

"No. No! You don't get to talk your way out of this!" I shoved and his head snapped back. 

"Nathan!" 

That was Parker. I shook my head. No. Audrey wasn't part of this.

I released the knot and hauled on the rope. Duke's feet rose off the deck. He groaned at the strain. There was more shouting. Audrey. Vince. Dave. I ignored them, and hauled the rope higher. 

Everything dipped to the right side. Then I saw a large hand clamped onto my shoulder. "Let him down slowly, Nathan," Dwight growled.

Duke screamed, "No!" Everything stopped.

I looked around. Dwight glowered from just behind me. Vince and Dave were frozen at the edge of the dock, staring. It was all wrong. They were supposed to be laughing, mocking, amused. Why were they looking like I had done something terrible? 

Parker broke out of the trance first. She yanked a man forward. I hadn't noticed him before. He was short, stocky, red-faced. The rope started sliding slowly through my fingers. I should know that guy…

Duke's toes touched the deck and he lunged forward. "Go away!" The shock made his voice sort of vibrate. The children faded out. My hands had blood on them. Duke's blood. Why had I…? The deck rushed up at me. Dwight's feet flashed by me. He pushed me, but why would he… ?

I scrambled up onto my knees. Duke was climbing up the mast with Dwight after him. "I deserve this!" Duke shouted. "I have to stop the cycle!"

I heard Parker speaking, but it sounded far away and muffled, almost like I was hearing her underwater. " _This_ is what what you are causing…" The rest faded into a drone.

I saw it. Duke was going to jump. Matthias. The man's name was Matthias. He was Troubled. This was all a Trouble. Willis and Miller had stopped only when Willis–the bully of the pair–had broken out of it. It started for us with Duke apologizing and me not accepting it. Matthias was the bully and he couldn't forgive himself.

I jumped to my feet. "Duke, stop! I forgive you!" 

He slowed, but didn't stop. "You don't deserve this!" He looked down at me. "Climb down. We aren't kids anymore. We can talk about it." 

He nodded and started climbing down. Parker had stopped talking. Matthias was staring at me like he couldn't believe it. Dwight kept close to Duke on the way down, and once they were both on the deck clamped one of his hands around Duke's bicep to prevent another escape. 

Duke's face and body were bruised, dried blood trailed down from his nose, but I knew his back was so much worse. I moved toward him, but Dwight blocked me. I looked up at him, confused.

"Inside," Dwight said. 

Duke was starting to give longing glances back at the pole, and Dwight added a grip onto Duke's other arm and started force-marching him toward the stateroom door. 

I looked right at Matthias, and stepped into Dwight's path. The rope was gone and the collar was gone. I hadn't seen Dwight take them off, but I was glad he had.

Duke was staring at me like his world was ending. "You lied. You'll never forgive me." 

"I… My voice choked off, and I tried again, speaking loudly so they could hear me across the deck. "I understand now some of _why_. I may never be able to think about some of the things you did to me when we were kids without being mad, but if I was really this unforgiving you'd have been dead a long time ago."

"No. The things I did are unforgivable. All excuses." There was a thump and Duke's head snapped back a little. Fresh blood trickled out of his nose. 

The kids were back, and more vicious than ever. Their blows connecting all over him, stronger than a kid could really be. "Duke! Stop it! You can make them stop."

Dwight had wrapped one arm around Duke's chest and was trying to protect him from the blows with the other. Duke's voice had flattened out again, and I knew Matthias was speaking as much as Duke was. "I can't change what happened in the past. I can't change who I was." 

I closed the distance between us and wrapped my arms around him. The sound of fists connecting stopped. "You can't change who you were, but you can choose who you are now. I may never forget, but I can forgive you."

"Nathan?" Duke's voice was confused, but normal at last. "You're hugging me. And..." He twisted around to see who was behind him. "And _Dwight's_ hugging me. What the hell?"

Matthias was bawling on Parker's shoulder. She was glaring at Vince and Dave, who seemed to be getting way too much enjoyment out of her "Help me!" look.

Dwight stepped back, and a few tacks hit the deck as he did. "Ow!" The color drained out of Duke's face. He staggered back out of my grip. "You– You– And I let you!" He looked down at his chest at what I had written on him. Then back up at me. He looked uncertain. Ready to bolt, as he asked, "Did you really mean that about forgiving me?"

"Yes." Neither of us really liked an audience to private matters, so I hitched my thumb toward the door, and asked, "Do you have first aid supplies in there?" 

A smile spread across his face. He nodded slowly. "Come on, Tin Man." He moved cautiously, trying not to jostle his back. "You would not believe how much this hurts. You really don't mess around with the revenge stuff, huh?"

"Yeah, just keep that in mind the next time you're planning something." I smiled, and turned to go inside. The rest of them could deal with Matthias. I was done with this Trouble.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

Dwight blocked the door. Duke didn't quite bounce off his chest, but Dwight did put a hand on Duke's shoulder to steady him.

"What are you doing, Sasquatch?"

"The two of you aren't going in there alone." He pointed at me. "You were trying to kill him a few minutes ago, and you–" he patted Duke's shoulder. "Were letting him. I'm not even going to mention your intentions with climbing that pole."

Duke leaned in. "Me and Nathan kind of have a few things to discuss, you know?"

Dwight closed his eyes for second and shook his head. "I understand, but you're not going anywhere alone."

I moved closer. Duke wasn't looking so good. Classic adrenaline crash in the works. "They'd be crazy to let us go that fast, Duke. It's been twenty years, what's a few more minutes?"

"Yeah, okay. I need a drink, anyway. Lead the way, Sasquatch."

Dwight looked relieved that we were being reasonable, and led the way inside. Despite having said he needed a drink, Duke went straight for the built in sofa, and stretched out on his stomach with his face buried in the cushion. 

"First aid kit is in the head, Nate." Duke's voice was muffled enough that I was reminded of that whispered, "Nathan…" from earlier. I froze. Looking down, I saw that I was shaking. 

"Sit." Dwight tugged me over and pushed me into sitting on the short curve of the bench. "I'll get the kit." 

I was close enough to touch Duke. Most of the tacks had fallen out of his skin, and only a couple were still oozing. I had used a brand new box of tacks, but it wasn't like they were sterile. I had personal experience with how easily puncture wounds like that could get infected. And not just from Duke's tacky prank. Those nails I'd taken to the shoulder at Lewis' shop had given me trouble, too.

Duke shifted around, hissing as the movement pulled the wounds. He gave me a baleful look. "I can't believe you put a shock collar on me."

"Me neither." I couldn't meet his eyes. I had been under the influence of Matthias' Trouble, but based on the others I had seen or heard about from dispatch, the actions were individual. That meant–

"You know you're no fun at all when you get that 'take full blame for things that were out of my control' look on your face."

"Duke, I–"

"You were under the influence of a Trouble that could make me let you stick tacks in me and then try to kill myself. You don't even want to know the kinds of things that I had planned to do to myself if you hadn't shown up." He shuddered, and put his face back on the cushion.

I swallowed hard. I noticed Dwight had been standing in the doorway listening to us talk. He stepped forward and handed me the first aid kit. He looked pointedly at me and then toward Duke, and then stepped into the kitchen.

I clumsily stood up. I wondered for a second if I might have strained muscles somewhere along the way, because my body just wasn't responding like it should. I was standing over him with the first aid kit when Duke turned his head back to face me, and flinched.

I fell to my knees. He put a hand on my shoulder, though I saw him wince with the movement. "Not your fault, Nate. Just… Can you get them off me?"

I nodded, and he put his arm back down. I carefully pulled the few remaining tacks out. Dwight handed me a wet washcloth and I started cleaning the dried blood off. 

"Fuck that hurts!" Duke hissed as I rubbed around one that was already puffy and red.

"You're going to need antibiotics. Punctures get infected easy." I smeared antibiotic cream on them and taped gauze pads over the clusters of injuries. "There."

He groaned but sat up. We stared at each other for a minute, and things were about to get awkward, when Duke said, "What the hell happened to you, anyway? You look like shit."

"I fell."

He stood up with more theatrical moaning and groaning. He held a hand out to help me up. I took it and found myself way too close to his face. He took a step back, still holding on to my hand. 

"Seriously? You _fell_? You realize you've bled through this bandage, right?" He was carefully prodding the clean edges of the bandage on my arm.

"Fell several times?"

"Trampled by a mob, then fell," Dwight called from the kitchen. 

I glared in his direction. He looked completely unapologetic.

Duke looked at the bandage uncomfortably, but his tone was light. "You're going to get blood on my furniture. Sit down and I'll change that." I chose not to point out that there were already large smears of his blood on the floor from earlier.

He put on gloves from the first aid kit. I almost opened my mouth to tease him about being so squeamish before I remembered what my blood could do that his couldn't. 

"Take your shirt off. It has blood on it, too." He hadn't actually gotten any closer to me. Skittish. I didn't think it was all fear of my blood. Once I was down to my non-blood stained undershirt, he did an efficient job of changing the bandage. "So you fell on your face, impaled your arm on something, broke your foot, and what, walked from the hospital to here?" 

"It's not broken. They just didn't trust me with a simple brace. Vince and Dave gave me a ride over here." I was feeling slow and sort of floaty. Signs that I was exhausted. Thinking about it, I hadn't slept at all the night before.

"They drove you over here? I've got to talk to those guys."

Dwight came back just then with two sandwiches and glasses of milk. "Eat. It'll help with the crash."

My fingers were clumsy and fumbling, but I managed to get the sandwich to my mouth.

"Be glad Vince and Dave did pick him up. That's how we knew Matthias' Trouble had you." Dwight sat down on the bench across the room. 

"Still babysitting us, Sasquatch?" Duke had inhaled the sandwich and was sipping the milk.

"Nope. Taking it easy. It's been a long day." He stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned back with his eyes shut. I had no doubt that he was babysitting us.

Duke waited until I had finished eating before he said anything else. "So are we good?" I heard what he wasn't saying. _Did you mean it when you forgave me_? 

I nodded. "Yeah. We're good."

He smiled that rare genuine smile that wasn't mocking or purposefully roguish. "Good."

Maybe letting go of at least a little bit of all that old stuff was good. It sort of felt nice to not be holding that anger quite so tightly. 

I woke up to pain and a feeling of extreme cold on my ankle. It startled me and I jerked upright. Something hit the floor with a slushy crash. I was on the bench on Duke's boat. A blanket was puddled around my waist. Parker looked surprised at my reaction, and moved her hand. The pain and cold disappeared instantly. 

"Easy, Nathan. Everything is okay now. Matthias has been dealt with, and everyone is back to normal."

I looked around, confused. Duke and Dwight were playing cards at the table. The boat was rocking more than normal, and I heard the fog horn in the bay. Parker picked up a steaming towel from the seat and reached for my foot. 

"I fell asleep?"

"And you were about to miss our 'Yay! We're not dead!' party," Duke said loudly.

Parker touched my ankle and the pain was back. "Hold still, Nathan." I kept my foot still as she wrapped the hot towel around it. I was torn between appreciating the heat and wanting the pain gone.Then she moved her hand and the heat was gone with the pain.

She sat next to me and put her hand on my arm. "Will you stay?"

"We're playing poker, drinking beers, and ordering pizza. It'll be fun to see if the pizza guy gets here before this little storm," Duke said. 

He was still talking too loudly. Parker must have caught my look wondering about that, because she shook her head. Stress reaction to being silenced, maybe. Well, I could deal him being loud for a while, and it would be nice to not be alone tonight. "I think I'll stay. What time is it? What did you do with Matthias?"

"It's almost five. Matthias has been admitted to the Freddie. Lucassi came over and escorted him." She made a point to be looking me right in the eye, and spoke quietly. "How did you know what to say to Duke?"

"I think being affected helped this time. You didn't see the kids or the projection with Willis and Miller, did you?"

She shook her head. "Would have helped if you had mentioned that."

I shrugged an apology at her. "Did you get particulars out of Matthias? Why was he so sure he couldn't be forgiven?"

"Because he can't." Her tone was surprisingly final. I was surprised, she rarely gives up on the Troubled. She sighed heavily. "He said he was a terrible bully as a kid. Grew up, regretted it, but never said anything to his main victim. A few years ago, before the Troubles started back up, the guy killed himself. Left a note that he had been bullied all his life and couldn't take it any longer."

"And then he finds out his son is being bullied…"

She nodded. "All he could think of was what happened with him and that guy, but seeing his son in the role of the victim."

"I had never seen him before we got to the school. How was he affecting people all over town?"

"We think he was just broadcasting like a spark-gap transmitter." She looked over at Duke, who was retrieving beers from the fridge. "Some people were perfect to be receivers."

I closed my eyes. I'd known on some level for a long time that Duke regretted the kid he had been. I just hadn't been willing to listen if he had ever worked up to telling me.

"Want to join them?" Parker smiled, and didn't that light up my world? 

I nodded. She tugged on my hand and I followed that bright spark of feeling to join the party.

 

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Karma by Miah_Arthur](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2561051) by [roseveare_audio (roseveare)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseveare/pseuds/roseveare_audio)




End file.
